N DESAI

I speak no French. I have lived in Paris for four months. This has caused me to rely on body language and visual things to understand the culture of the city and its people. I am an American; my parents are Indian. An Indian from the USA studying in Paris, where he does not speak the language. My place in Paris does not seem to exist; it seems everything about be culturally and nationally is undervalued here. Visible Indians are often itinerant and financially vulnerable in the city, selling nuts or dancing dolls on the streets. Americans are not well liked here. My experience in Paris has come to an end; I am heading back to convenience and excess in the States. I know who I am and where I belong.

Pieces by N Desai:

Looking Deeper in the Glass
Bethany and the Pompidou
My Money and the Poor
Narrow Streets
Sex and Sanctuary
Haussman
Markets and markets
Fountain Les Halles
Just a bunch of junk
Dick Hebdidge